


Taboo

by Reiko009



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Durincest, Eventual Happy Ending, Homosexuality, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Sibling Incest, Taboo, but mostly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 11:45:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiko009/pseuds/Reiko009
Summary: The fact the Fili had always preferred male partners was never an issue, something that Bilbo was quite surprised to learn, once he had been fully accepted into the dwarves’ confidence. Sadly, it seemed that hobbits favored the rather narrow-minded views of men on the topics of love and romance. Dwarves who were exclusively attracted to the same-sex were highly regarded. To hobbits, such relationships were taboo. Unnatural. Perverse. Fili became even fonder of the Halfling once this was revealed, because he knew what it was like to have a secret.





	Taboo

**_DISCLAIMER: This is fan-fiction. I do not own anything. This story is meant to explore the nature of taboo romantic and sexual relationships within different cultures. It contains references to sexual activity between biological brothers. Please be kind in your comments. Share love, not hate._ **

Upon waking, even before his eyes opened, Fili’s thoughts were about his brother. He must have called out something, but it was unintelligible to his ears – almost like his body still slept. Cool hands caressed his face and soft, whispered pleas filtered through the hazy fog of his mind. Opening his eyes required far too much effort, but he caught a glimpse of a curtain of dark hair surrounding a familiar, much-beloved face.

“Ki…?” Fili’s voice was harsh and wheezing, unfamiliar to him.

“Shhhhh. I’m here.” Came the reply.

The pain began to register then. Fili’s chest ached with every breath, almost like the air was on fire – burning his lungs. All the same, he could not get enough air. Scraps of memory surfaced in a vain attempt to explain the pain. Flames. Had Smaug returned? Why wasn’t Kili running to safety? It was important that Kili ran away. He was in danger. But no, it wasn’t the dragon that was coming…

“Run! Kili… run.” Fili begged, in a raspy imitation of his own voice.

Kili kissed him. It was not a hurried kiss – not a quick sign of affection upon departing. His brother meant to stay with him. Fili’s heart ached, both with longing and in mourning for what would surly befall them both. Death was already upon him, Fili realized. And Kili wouldn’t run away.

Their first real kiss was brief – stolen only days ago during a moment of weakness while digging through treasure for the Arkenstone. Great mounds of gold spilled out merrily from one chamber to the next, filling the passageways between them in little serpentine patterns reminiscent of the terror that once slept beneath them. Despite the glimmer from the wealth of Erabor, the shadows had been growing steadily darker. The elation of completing the quest was souring into apprehension.

Kili had given him such a look of fear mid conversation – his dark brown eyes opened wide – that it was all Fili could think to do. He looked around, making sure they were alone. It was easy to push Kili against the wall, into the shadows, and press their lips together. The kiss was gentle and chaste at first – attempting a gesture of comfort – but that too, quickly changed. A raw desire to deepen the kiss grew, now that their bodies were pressed so close. Fili moaned ever so softly. But all too soon, Thorin’s loud bark for the Company to assemble broke them apart, echoing down the halls from the throne room.

If two kisses were all Fili could take to the afterlife – he would treasure them. His mind began floating back to memories of the quest and his childhood in Ered Luin. The sense of urgency for Kili to flee from harm’s way remained, but his connection to the present seemed distant – almost as if he was dreaming.

***---***---***

The fact the Fili had always preferred male partners was never an issue, something that Bilbo was quite surprised to learn, once he had been fully accepted into the dwarves’ confidence. Sadly, it seemed that hobbits favored the rather narrow-minded views of men on the topics of love and romance. Of course, dwarven custom might have arisen due to them not having the luxury of gender equality within their numbers. Dwarrowdams were rare – so rare, in fact, that it was common practice to hold feasts and give elaborate, expensive gifts to welcome a daughter’s birth.

Families consisted mainly of brothers, most of whom wiled away in each other’s service – confirmed bachelors until their last breath. Successful courtship of a dwarrowdam was often won by those with the time and money to spare in winning her affections – mainly the wealthy, noble class. Finding happiness with a male partner was not uncommon, and those who were exclusively attracted to the same-sex highly regarded. _Less competition_ , is how Fili decided to phrase it when Bilbo asked – even if the real answer was a bit more complex than that.

It became more and more obvious to the Company that both Bilbo and Thorin were attracted to one another – especially after the Carrock. Thus they tried to wheedle out explanations for Bilbo’s hesitation to accept Thorin’s advances. What they learned was surprising. To hobbits, such relationships were taboo. Unnatural. Perverse.

Fili became even fonder of the Halfling once this was revealed. For even though his own attractions mirrored his Uncle’s – towards male partners only – Fili knew what it was like to have a secret. He knew what it was like for society to stand against what one’s heart so desperately yearned towards. Fili had youthful dalliances with several dwarves in the Blue Mountains, but his soul belonged to one he could never have: his brother Kili. Unnatural. Perverse.

Not that anyone else knew, of course. Fili was sure of that.

The other members of the Company tried to play up the strangeness of hobbit culture – turning Bilbo’s excuses back around on him. All in a general way, of course, not wanting to force Bilbo to acknowledge Thorin’s affections if he didn’t truly want them. Some of their arguments even made sense.

“But no one can help the desires of their heart and mind – surly, not even hobbits?” Balin had asked.

“Well, no… they can’t…” Bilbo stammered.

“And should one be so lucky to find another, equally devoted soul – why would their form matter?” Bofer chimed in.

But there was a reason dwarves kept their secrets from the other races – it stung when Bilbo’s sharp wit found holes in their own cultural expectations. While it was perfectly acceptable for a dwarf to form a lasting romantic partnership with another dwarf – it was unthinkable for a dwarrowdam to do the same with another dam. Fili laughed along with Bilbo at Balin and Gloin’s spluttering as they tried to defend their unconscious, yet stubborn, prejudice on the matter – blind to the inconsistencies of their thinking until it was pointed out to them.

Dwarves sometimes fell into secrecy to uphold tradition, but not without reason. Currently, it was expected among dwarves for any amorous displays to remain private – to keep any ridicule or spite from poisoning what was most precious. Dwarves of the Blue Mountains worked closely with men – who were quick to judge a simple kiss between male lovers as obscene. More than once, Fili had witnessed senseless acts of hate towards his own kind. Better not to reveal anything than to reveal too much and lose more than good work and wages over differences in culture.

Yet, just because hobbits seemed to abhor relationships between males, while the dwarves did not, all the races of Middle Earth shared one taboo. Fili couldn’t apply Biblo’s cleverness to his own attractions. He wanted to believe Bofer’s words explicitly, but there were always seemed to be exceptions to form – be it age, status, or race. Bilbo waxing poetic about potential love between a dwarf and an elf made that quite plain. And all throughout the quest, Kili bubbled away at his side – laughing with the others, seemingly oblivious to Fili’s inner turmoil.

Or so Fili had thought.

***---***---***

After their decent from the Carrock, the strange skin-changer reluctantly gave them shelter after days of pursuit by the enemy. The first two nights, Fili gladly made camp in a relatively soft pile of hay – making a little nest at his brother’s side – and passed out from exhaustion. The third night was different. While bedding down, Kili worked his way closer to Fili until the distance between them shrank away to almost nothing. Fili expected Kili to whisper something in his ear, scheming some silly prank, or commenting in jest about their strange host. But no words were spoken.

Fili turned to see if Kili had drifted into slumber and had only shifted nearer to escape the cold – but Kili’s large brown eyes were open. There was a fire there that Fili hadn’t seen before – determination mixed with lust and youthful mischief. _Beautiful_ was an apt word to describe that look. Earlier in the day Bilbo had had a long talk with Beorn – presumably about his cultural misgivings and the increasingly persistent attentions of one Thorin Oakenshield. All seemed to have been resolved, as their Uncle and the hobbit had later been seen strolling the gardens together, smiles on both their faces. This lightened the mood of the entire Company, the brothers included.

Kili put a hand to Fili’s cheek. It was a gentle touch. One that could have been innocent enough, had the look in Kili’s eyes matched his actions. When Fili didn’t protest, Kili nudged his leg playfully – kicking their boots together quietly. His brother smiled ever so slightly with lips that looked so soft and gentle. They had shared a bed many times as children. Somehow, this was not at all like one of those times. Fili breath hitched, his heart racing. The moonlight shone dimly through the window, illuminating just enough to frame his brother’s fine-featured face in a gentle, pale glow. Kili’s leg snaked easily in between Fili’s own – all pretense of subtlety abandoned.

Fili couldn’t move. He felt trapped between his own desire and the oppressive disapproval of their friends and family that would surely follow should they continue. Kili’s leg roamed higher at an excruciatingly slow pace – giving Fili ample time to back away, to escape. But he couldn’t make himself turn away. Kili’s eyes had caught him, he could look nowhere else. Surly the whole house could hear the blood pumping, rushing through his body at such a pace he had never felt before. Kili’s hand traveled from Fili’s cheek, to his neck, to his chest.

Two things happened at once. Kili’s roaming hands reached under Fili’s shirt and touched bare flesh, just as Dwalin gave a disturbingly loud snore so that those close to him grumbled and kicked in their sleep. It was just enough to break Fili from his trance. He pulled away in fear and shame and turned his back on his brother. His love.

Kili did not touch him again that night, nor did they speak of it after.

***---***---***

Getting lost in Mirkwood gave Fili ample time to reminisce about happier times – back in Ered Luin when things were less complicated. Fili had only a scattering of memories of his father, while Kili had none. Their mother had wisely chosen to marry for love, not money – but her alliance to the dwarves of the Blue Mountains were still fortuitous to what was left of the refugees of Erabor. While they rarely had any gold to spare, there was always work to do and food to eat. For the meager winters, there was always games to play with Kili – whose laughter brightened up their little home.

That, he supposed was what Fili loved most about his brother. In his delirious state, he wished he could hear Kili laugh once more before his breathing stopped all together. His body had refused to give up, despite the pain, but the burning in his chest remained. The constant, coppery taste of blood in his mouth, the coughing – it all meant something was very wrong indeed. But his mind was as lost as the Company had been, wandering beneath a dark canopy of sickly, green leaves.

Erabor had been nothing but a fairytale story that their Uncle would tell them before bed. Neither of the boys had any notion of what it was like to drink from golden cups or roam hallways studded with precious gems. Kili’s skill with the bow was indulged only because it put meat on the table, giving Fili time away from the forge to study with Balin about affairs of state, court etiquette, and memorize scrolls and scrolls of names and their relationship to the crown. As Thorin’s heir, Fili had a lot of expectations riding on his shoulders. Some of which he vehemently rebelled against upon realizing his attraction to other dwarves.

Kili had never shown any romantic interest in anyone before, but Fili knew that any chance of further heirs to the House of Durin lay with his younger brother. At least Thorin did not despair at Fili’s natural proclivities. The same could not be said for his mother – although she did try hard not to show it. He kept reminding himself of this whenever he felt guilty about pulling away the night Kili had touched him. Back in Mirkwood, they had hardly slept, but when they did rest, Kili kept his back to Fili – but he always stayed within arms’ reach, for which Fili was grateful.

Then the spiders came, and the elves not long after.

Blasted, sodding, idiotic elves.

***---***---***

Perhaps it was the cold that brought him back to reality, or the silence, Fili wasn’t sure. He expected to see dark foliage overhead, and was surprised to see brown canvas instead. Where had they gotten a tent? Lifting his head to look around proved near impossible, as if sharp knives were imbedded in his chest – pinning him to what felt like a sturdy cot. His involuntary hiss of pain did not go unnoticed.

“Fili?” It was a familiar voice, but not the one he had hoped for.

“Is he safe?” Fili answered, not bothering to specify who he meant. An awful silence followed, making Fili panic.

“Oh, laddie. He’s… ” Balin’s words were thick with emotion.

“Please, tell me he ran. _Please_ … tell me Kili is safe.” Fili begged, in as much of a shout as his chest would allow, the words oddly raspy as they escaped him.

“Hush, now. Kili’s just gone to sleep.” It was Bilbo who answered this time, although his voice sounded even more strained than Balin’s had.

Fili gasped in relief, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Where is he?” Fili asked, much softer this time.

“Hasn’t left your side.” Bilbo answered.

It was then that Fili could register that there was another cot in the tent, away from the voices. Fili turned his head slowly, instead of raising it, and could just make out another form – his brother, fast asleep. Dark hair obscuring most of the young dwarf’s features, gentle, even breaths disturbing the finest strands into a flutter. Fili’s heart sang at the sight.

Turning back the other way proved difficult, but Fili managed it slowly. Bilbo and Balin were still there, watching him.

“And Uncle?”

The look on the hobbit’s face told him enough.

“I’m so sorry, Bilbo.” Fili cried. The tears of relief now gushed forth as tears of sorrow.

“Hush. Hush.” Bilbo valiantly soothed Fili’s tears away.

His love, Kili, still lived. Thorin had fallen. And still Fili felt death clinging to him. Perhaps he would follow his Uncle to Mahal’s halls. He would welcome peace rather than the constant burning – every breath still felt like consuming flames. And the cold. Why was he so cold?

***---***---***

The worst trial of the quest was yet to surface. The red-haired elf talked with Kili in a way that made Fili more than uncomfortable. And instead of rebuking her as would be expected – his brother flirted openly. Emotionally this turned out to be most straining. Part of him wanted his brother to be happy, even in those dark circumstances. Kili’s laughter was like sunshine, a gift to all who heard it.

Fili had been taught to hate and despise elves, even though he had very little experience with them. The elves in Rivendell were strange, but not overtly hostile like the elves of Mirkwood. Kili giving his attention to Tauriel made his stomach turn. But he couldn’t help but feel like a hypocrite for also whole-heartedly approving of Thorin’s budding relationship with their hobbit burglar – another mixed-race match. If it was true happiness – what right did he have in standing in his brother’s way? To which, another deeper, darker part of him complained that the sodding elf was stealing Kili away from him.

To make matters worse, he had no chance to make things right with Kili. They were in separate cells, which made private conversations impossible. He had trouble sleeping while under the halls of the Forest King. When he closed his eyes, he always had the same dream. It wasn’t a fantasy born from worry, but instead a memory of only weeks prior on their trek through the Misty Mountains.

The flight from Rivendell coincided with a storm that would cover their tracks, which seemed rather lucky at first. But then the wind picked up and their layers of clothes and armor were rendered useless against the barrage of horizontal rain and snow, which stung their faces and hands. It seemed odd to have thunder with snow, great booming sounds that came without the usual preamble of dancing lights in the sky. The thunder grew louder and more frequent, as if the storm was chasing them. Thorin was desperately looking for shelter for the Company when it happened.

The path split. Kili was pulled away. And in Fili’s dreams the distance between them grew so impossibly vast, he knew they would forever be parted. He watched helplessly as Kili’s frightened face disappeared into mist and shadow – his gut telling him that he was moving, falling, bound to crash upon the rocks.

The dream didn’t go away, even after they escaped the elven prison. Kili was injured. He watched helplessly as his brother faded, pale and feverish, as they entered Lake Town. His Uncle, driven by a kind fervor now that Erabor was within reach, refusing to acknowledge Fili’s pleas to rest and attend to his brother’s wound. And then Thorin ordered Kili to stay behind.

It wasn’t fair. To have come so far and endured so much – to be denied the last leg of the journey was just cruel. Fili loved Thorin like a father, but although he didn’t realize it then, this was the first sign of things to come. Madness.

“My place is with my brother.” Fili had said, stepping back onto the dock.

Watching the Company leave them was hard, but not as hard as seeing Kili collapse on the way back to the big house. Now that all pretense would be in vain, his brother no longer refused his help to walk or tried to hide his frequent grimaces of pain. Things were getting worse.

Relief came at the hands of the elf Kili had so fancied – a surprise that was welcome so long as his brother lived. Elf medicine, as Kili would explain later, was a touching of souls. Just as he was laid bare before her, she was equally vulnerable. There was so much love and light inside her, Kili had said – it would be impossible for him to hate elves ever again after catching the briefest glimpse of their true selves. _She walked in starlight, in another world – ageless and pure._ And then she was gone.

Fili was grateful to Tauriel. He was prepared to give Kili to her, if that is what they both wanted. But Kili didn’t mention her again. Whatever fanciful notions his brother had entertained about her he seemed to abandon as they limped away from the charred remains of Lake Town towards the mountain. The dragon was dead. Smaug, the Great and Terrible, lay broken and silent in a heap among the ruins.

***---***---***

Waking up this time took less effort, and it hurt less to breathe. Clever fingers were combing through his hair and resetting the braids.

“Kili?” Fili whispered.

“Fi? You’re awake! Oh, Fili!” And his brother abandoned his task and pressed their foreheads together.

Fili’s memory was still sluggish – recent events still jumbled up together in a mash of fear and pain. But Kili was alive and well. Kili was stroking his hair back from his face, almost reverently. Kili was smiling, even while his eyes were full of tears.

“What’s… what is wrong with me?” Fili asked, confused that he still couldn’t manage to sit up – although her nearly managed it before Kili pressed him back down.

Once Kili seemed sure that Fili wouldn’t try and move again, he replied. “You turned. You screamed for us to run… and that cursed orc’s sword caught your side. Punctured a lung. Broke a few ribs. We… we didn’t know if you were going to make it, for a while.”

“How long?” Fili asked, unwilling to ask about Thorin just then.

“Just under a week since the battle.” Kili answered glumly.

“And… you… you are unharmed?” Fili noted that his brother was looming over him from the second cot, not standing by his side as one would expect from a visitor of the sick and dying.

“Not exactly. Bolg’s blade didn’t pierce through my armor, but it was close. The bruising is spectacularly colorful, I assure you.” Kili tried to shrug, but it was spoiled by a wince of pain.

Fili cringed in sympathy. _Hadn’t Kili suffered enough?_

It was quiet for a bit as Kili took up braiding Fili’s hair once more. Neither of them wanted to talk about Thorin. It was easier to pretend it was just the two of them – the world outside the tent just a fantasy.

“I love you, Ki.” Fili found himself saying, as Kili finished the braid and continued to stroke through his hair. He was getting drowsy again already. Somehow, it seemed important for him to say it out loud. Important for Kili to understand. “I… _love_ you.”

Fili felt the ghosting of warm lips against his as he drifted back into slumber.

***---***---***

After accepting Thorin’s request to join the Company, all three of them were scolded heavily by their mother, Dis. She was a fierce, strong dwarrowdam. At first, Fili could not understand her anger. But Thorin argued back that all of the Heirs of Durin should have a part of the quest – out of duty to the people they were meant to rule. The possibility of success was small, he admitted freely. But to the young brothers, they still imagines failure as returning home without any of the fabled treasure locked inside their ancestral home – oblivious to the reality of the dangers they were likely to face.

Dis took Fili aside the night before their departure for Hobbiton.

“Your Uncle is a good dwarf – very brave and honorable. You will obey him?” Dis asked.

“I will.” Fili answered, solemnly.

“He will ask things of you – dangerous, foolhardy things. There is much evil in the wilds which you have not before faced. Will you still obey him?” Dis asked again.

“I will.” Fili said again, with equal conviction.

“Thorin will ask the same of Kili.” She began again. “And he will follow your lead, as he always does.”

Fili nodded.

“Promise me… promise me you will look out for him. Neither of you understand this errand, but Kili least of all. This is not a hunt, where the prize is a good meal and some coin. It is not a camping holiday or sight-seeing trip. You will go off the road to avoid detection, through harsh terrain and monsters’ lairs.” Dis explained.

“We _know_ , Amad.” Fili whined.

“No, you don’t. And that is what frightens me. At first it will be fun. Kili will laugh and joke as he likes to do. But before long you will find yourselves in real peril. I need you to take this quest seriously – for the both of you. Keep your brother in line, or I fear that after tomorrow I will never see either of my sons again.” Her voice had lowered into a harsh, quiet whisper. “He could _die_ , Fili. You could _both_ die.”

At the thought of Kili’s death, Fili sobered up.

Dis asked again. “Promise me you will look after him.”

“I promise.”

Fili didn’t sleep a wink that last night, safe in their home in Ered Luin. Kili proclaimed he was far too excited to sleep, but was out like a light not long after. He knew their mother was right – they didn’t really understand what was being asked of them. Fili watched his brother sleep and worried for the both of them. He would ask Thorin to assign them the same tasks so that Fili could keep his promise.

Dis had been right. It was exhilarating to be out in the open, seeing new sights, and taking care of everything themselves – so much so, that Fili was starting to think that nothing dangerous would ever happen. It was a pleasure to see Kili having so much fun. Fili had harbored feelings for his brother for years, but he had never allowed his gaze to linger so long, nor imagine a world where he could share his devotion to Kili openly until their time on the road.

They met up with the rest of the Company, collected their burglar, and finally began their trek east. It was not unlike any other night, with assignments given for dinner, the night watch, and taking care of the ponies. Having been given the latter, Fili and Kili whispered playful gossip about their companions while strolling around the perimeter of the meadow where they had left the animals to bed down for night. The sight of Kili, dusty from the road, grinning and laughing in the moonlight was like heaven.

“Have you… noticed the way Uncle treats Master Boggins?” Kili asked, all of the sudden.

“I have.” Fili answered, conspiratorially – even if he didn’t know where Kili was going with this train of thought.

“While I do love Thorin, it doesn’t’ seem fair to the hobbit for him to be so cold. Especially since I can’t figure out why.” Kili finished.

“He is a bit… _soft_.” Fili tried to reason.

Kili frowned. “Is that really such a bad thing? Master Boggins seems… er… happy.”

Fili shrugged.

“Uncle could stand to be a little happier.” Kili added.

“Perhaps he will be, someday. When we retake Erabor.” Fili answered.

“Perhaps.” Kili turned thoughtful.

Fili thought that was the end of it, so he went back to watching the ponies.

“But perhaps there is another reason.” Kili whispered. “Do you think hobbits have Ones?”

“What?” Fili asked – completely lost.

“You know… from the old stories. Finding the one person that completes you – a single love across your whole life.” Kili explained, dreamily.

“I know what it means. But what does that have to do with hobbits?” Fili asked. “And it’s rubbish, anyway. Romantic fairy tales.”

Kili looked rather hurt at the idea, so Fili amended it.

“Look… I just mean that real love is a bit more complicated than that.” Which was true, especially in his own case, Fili thought.

“Master Boggins called himself an old bachelor, just like Uncle.” Kili said, rather stiffly, probably anticipating another harsh rebuke.

Oh. That’s what Kili was suggesting. “I see.”

“Only if hobbits have Ones, maybe his died and there’s no chance at all for Uncle.”

“Well, it would be impolite to ask.” Fili rolled his eyes, wanting to divert the conversation.

Kili just giggled.

It was some time later when Fili was busy recounting the ponies before Kili spoke again. Surely he had just missed one…

“Do you really think the idea of Ones is all rubbish?”

Fili groaned. “No, Kili. Really. I find it… _endearing_ that you believe them to be possible. I don’t doubt that somewhere out there it has happened for at least two very lucky dwarves.”

“But not for you?” Kili asked, in an unusually timid voice.

A rustling noise in the bushes startled them both. Fili quickly counted up the ponies. Then counted again.

“Bollocks.”

***---***---***

Fili and Kili had only healed enough to stand uncomfortably for their Uncle’s funeral and weep. With Kili’s help, Fili hobbled forward at the end and kissed his Uncle’s cold cheek. Both dwarves were amazed by the honors in which the remainder of the company and their allies freely gave. Thorin had truly gone mad near the end.

It is difficult to forgive someone you love. Fili found he was still angry at his Uncle. It had been foolish to think they could so easily defeat the dragon and retake their homeland. It was unwise to make hollow promises to the people of Lake Town – to use them as Thorin had. Crazed, to sit atop the treasure hoard and wait for the troubles they had caused to just go away. Sickening, to threaten one of the Company with a horrible death – let alone poor, beloved Bilbo – for trying to make things right.

Fili needed a reminder that those things were not all of who Thorin was. The Gold Sickness had warped and changed him, but not forever. He had redeemed himself in the end. As Bilbo prepared to depart for home, they had a chance to speak alone.

“Gandalf warned me, you know.” Bilbo said, mournfully. “That I wouldn’t be the same.”

“Kili once told me how much he admired your cheerful attitude, back when we first met. Despite all your complaints about manners and insufficient mealtimes. I hope that… with all that’s happened here… Well, I hope that we haven’t robbed that from you.” Replied Fili.

“Perhaps I’m not so care-free, no. But I wouldn’t change any of it. For a few short weeks… even with all the elves and spiders and dragons… Thorin– He was… He meant so much to me.” Bilbo fought back tears.

Fili reached for the hobbit’s hand and held it tight. “If he had lived?”

“I told him that it would have been impossible. I belong in the Shire. His place was here, in Erabor. _That_ , I have to admit I regret.” Bilbo sighed. “It wasn’t impossible. Had he lived… I could not have parted from him. Banishment be damned.”

“You could still stay.” Fili offered.

“No, I couldn’t.” Bilbo said simply.

A few moments of silence were required for Bilbo to regain his composure. Fili fiddled with his bandages until Bilbo spoke again.

“You are the rightful Heir. I know Balin has been pressuring you to take up the crown in Thorin’s stead.” Bilbo stated, his voice almost back to normal.

“I don’t want it.” Fili answered.

“Which is perhaps why you should take it.” Bilbo answered. “You would make a good king.”

Fili avoided Bilbo’s gaze. There was so much he wanted to say – but he couldn’t. So he used the excuse he had given Balin. “I get short of breath from even the simplest tasks. Oin says one of my lungs is gone. I will not recover. The people need a strong ruler. The demands of rebuilding Erabor are beyond me.”

“A fine excuse.” Bilbo countered. “But it isn’t the real reason, is it?”

Fili didn’t answer.

“Kili has already refused as well, but I’m sure you knew that.”

He still couldn’t bring himself to speak.

“Perhaps, like me, you feel that this adventure has been enough for one lifetime. I’m rather looking forward to the comforts of home. My chair by the fire. My books.” Bilbo continued. “I might even write about all that we’ve been through. Parts of it _are_ quite thrilling.”

“You would write about us?” Fili asked.

“Of course. And how would you like me to end it? Where should I say you go from here, if you do not take up the crown?”

Fili had to think a moment. “I will go wherever Kili does.”

“An honest answer, if not all of it.” This time Bilbo reached for Fili’s hand. “Time is so precious. I let my fears keep me from accepting the love I longed for, freely given, for far too long. Don’t make that mistake.”

Fili cried silently. Bilbo _knew_. He knew, and he didn’t cringe at the strangeness of it. He didn’t find it perverse or unnatural. Bilbo wrapped his arms around Fili and held him for a long time.

***---***---***

It would be months before Fili would be well enough to travel anywhere. The crown was passed to Dain, Thorin’s cousin from the Iron Hills who aided them in what was now being called The Battle of Five Armies. He had graciously allowed Fili and Kili to remain in Erabor for as long as they wished, although they both longed to return to the home they knew back in Ered Luin.

Fili still hadn’t talked properly with his brother. Partly, the whole business of healing required most of his time and energy – but he had to admit, he was also terrified at what Kili might say. There was no question in his mind that Fili could ever look at anyone else the way he looked at his brother. But perhaps Kili didn’t feel the same. Sometimes Fili caught a wistful look on his brother’s face – was he still pining for the elf?

In the end, it was Kili who turned out to be the braver one. They each had rooms inside Erabor to themselves, but instead of leaving their separate ways in the hall, Kili followed Fili right up to his door.

“Fi. Let me in?” It was a request for more than just entry into his chambers.

“Of course.” Fili said, his voice calm and quiet while his blood ran cold, his stomach falling.

Inside the room the fire needed tending, Fili busied himself with it in order to stall the conversation he knew was coming. Kili waited by the door.

“Why won’t you talk about Uncle?”

That had not been the question Fili had expected. He looked at his brother in confusion. “Er… well, it is painful. The loss is still too… recent.”

Kili narrowed his eyes. “You are a terrible liar, Fi.”

Fili had to think for a moment. It _was_ painful, but not for that. “I suppose… well… I never thought Uncle could ever be wrong, you know? He was strong and brave – everything we were taught to be. And it wasn’t wrong to want to reclaim our homeland. But…” He couldn’t seem to continue.

“You blame him. For… going mad.” Kili whispered.

“Perhaps.” Fili supplied. “We all saw how much he cared for Bilbo. It was like you said, the hobbit made our Uncle happier. The mithril shirt is proof enough. How could a love like that turn to such bitterness? It hurt to see him that way. As if… I didn’t know him anymore.”

Kili smiled a sad smile, but didn’t answer.

Fili felt that ne needed to say more. “I loved him like a father. Nothing could change that. I just… don’t know how to explain what happened.” He looked pleadingly at his brother, for him to understand.

“I think I understand a bit. Love _is_ a lot more complicated than in the old stories.” Kili admitted.

Fili looked down at the floor, averting his gaze – hearing his own words directed back at him.

“Fili, will you let me kiss you?” Kili whispered, moving slowly from the door closer to the fire.

At the request, Fili looked up again in shock – searching his brother’s face. Kili’s gaze was genuine and warm, with no hint of deception or pity. Kili closed the distance between them and waited for Fili’s reply at an arm’s length – the glow from the fire turning his skin and hair to gold.

“I would deny you nothing.” Fili heard himself say.

This time the kiss was quick and hard. Kili’s hands grasped tight to the front of Fili’s coat, locking them together. Kili peppered a trail of kisses on Fili’s cheeks and down his neck. All the while he spoke. “Love you, Fi. Love you. My Fili.”

Fili groaned in pleasure at the words. Kili _loved_ him.

“Kili. I need you to know. There could not be anyone else for me. Do you understand, Ki? No one else. Not ever.” Fili pleaded.

Kili pulled away enough to look his brother in his eyes, a smile on his face. “I was so afraid, that night in Beorn’s house, when you pulled away. Ashamed. Tell me truly now, that you welcome my touch.”

“I do.” Fili said with conviction. And to prove it he gave Kili a deep kiss, his own hands trailing up Kili’s shirt to brush against bare flesh, which had only recently returned to its normal hue.

They kissed for what seemed like ages, although it couldn’t have been that long. The fire had died down to a low red glow. Both dwarves were breathless, beads of sweat forming on their brows from the fire’s heat and their own passion. Clothes were becoming uncomfortable.

“Stay the night with me?” Fili asked.

“Of course.”

Fili’s mind caught up to what he had just proposed. Fear slowly returning. “The others… they will not understand. Not even the Company. I would not see my love for you poisoned by them.”

“I know.” Kili replied in a sad whisper.

“I would not… keep you a secret. I would mark you with braids and beads from my own hair – if I could.” Fili continued.

“I know.” Kili repeated.

Making love to Kili was as easy as breathing. That isn’t to say they didn’t awkwardly bump elbows and knees in their eagerness to shed layers and find mutually comfortable positions for giving pleasure. But it was easy to laugh it off together at the sheer joy of being so close that neither expected perfection out of the other. Sharing everything with one another just felt right.

Being conscientious of Fili’s new limitations, Kili remained on top. He mapped Fili’s naked body with warm, feather-light fingers. They had seen each other nude many times before, but never for the satisfaction of looking and touching. Rutting their hardened cocks together, the brothers slowly drifted away into pure sensation. The soft, downy-like hairs on their legs and arms contrasted with their rough, course bearded cheeks and the dense curls on their chests trailing down to their groins.

Why did it matter so much that such a tender, private moment should be so frightening to others? For certainly any objection to such happiness must only come from fear. _They don’t understand and it frightens them_ , Fili thought. Just as Bilbo must now be preparing to edit away parts of his adventures for their retelling back in the Shire – so too would Fili and Kili have to remain silent. Grunts and sighs were stifled before they grew into moans. Even when Fili’s vision blurred and his cock produced ropes and ropes of cum that melted onto hair and skin and he trembled with ecstasy – only Kili heard. Only Kili saw, and joined his brother seconds later – mouth open, panting with exertion into Fili’s neck.

***---***---***

A letter arrived from their mother a few days later. Word had traveled fast back to the Blue Mountains on the bitter-sweet success of their quest. Dis was upset that they hadn’t sent word to her immediately after the Battle – and they were in no hurry to explain why that hadn’t been possible. No mention of their abdication of the throne was included, for which they were grateful. Fili had worried that she might be angry with them for it.

“Should we tell her we are going back?” Kili asked.

“That’s up to you. I’ll go wherever you go. Erabor will soon be bustling with dwarves again. There will be plenty of work to do here.” Fili answered.

“It is… beautiful here. Grand. Better than the stories we heard Uncle tell growing up. But…” Kili trailed off.

“It isn’t home.” Supplied Fili.

“No. It isn’t.” Kili agreed.

“And with a portion of the treasure still allotted to us, we don’t really need to work ever again.” Fili continued.

“That might be fun for a while.” Kili admitted. “But you know I couldn’t manage it. I like to hunt. I like living on the land and seeing new places. Surely all that money could go towards something useful rather than allowing us to rot away in a fat stupor, covered in gold and jewels.”

“We could live in Dale, if Bard will have us. The men have much to rebuild. Our skills would be useful to them – me at the forge and you as a hunter of wild game.” Fili offered.

“And it would feel right – giving back to them. Fulfilling Uncle’s promise.” Kili added.

“Aye, it would.” Fili smiled endearingly at his brother. His love had a good heart. “Should I tell her this?”

“Are you sure you can manage? At the forge, I mean.” Kili asked.

“Not right away, no. I’ll never be able to do all that I once could. But I can manage the needs of men. Nails, horseshoes, simple tools… they wouldn’t be fine art, but they would be useful.” Fili admitted.

“And we could visit the Iron Hills, the Grey Mountains, possibly even the Sea of Rhun.” The light in Kili’s eyes was bright and infectious.

Fili laughed. “Why on earth would you want to go there?”

“We’ve caught glimpses of the Sundering Seas back at the Blue Mountains. Do you think it would be as vast?” Kili asked.

“Surely not, as there are said to be mountains even further east. There is nothing past the shores of Lindon save for the lands elves sail to when it is time for them to die.” Fili answered sagely.

“Who told you that?” Kili asked, the light dimming from his eyes.

“Bilbo did.” Fili confessed.

“I thought elves were immortal.” Kili looked troubled.

“In a way, they are. More so than us.” Fili tried to sound cheerful. When Kili didn’t respond, Fili gathered up his courage to ask another question. “Are you… _worried_ for your elven friend, Tauriel?”

“I am – a little, I guess. Sorry, I know you don’t like her.” Kili answered.

“That’s not entirely true. I would have… if you had chosen her – I would have been happy for you.” Fili tried to sound cheerful.

“I’ve told you before, you are a bad liar.”

“I could never hate her. She saved your life.” Fili answered truthfully this time.

“She is special to me – but I could never chose her over you. Never.” Kili whispered. “I wish her happiness. For a short time I considered more, after you rejected me. But it wasn’t meant to be.”

Fili felt the weight of uncertainty lift and he smiled as he pressed his forehead to Kili’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Fi.” Kili answered. “Tell mother we will build a little house in Dale. She should return to Erabor in a year’s time and see her home in all its glory and to pay her respects to Uncle. It will be good to see her again.”

“That it will.” Fili reluctantly released his love and returned to the letter.

“Perhaps we should write to Bilbo, too. Do you think he would like that?” Asked Kili.

“I don’t see why not.”

There was a short silence before Kili asked another question. “He… he knew about my feelings for you. Told me, just before Thorin discovered he had taken the Arkenstone. Asked me to keep you close. I knew what he meant.”

“Clever Bilbo.” Fili mused. “I should have liked to have seen him with Thorin – wearing a crown and ruling by Uncle’s side. He made Thorin… _better_. More kind.”

“Are you upset… that he knows?” Kili seemed anxious.

“Of course not. He knew of my feelings for you as well. He gave me his blessing.” Fili could almost feel his eyes clouding with unshed tears at the memory.

“Well, invite him back. Tell him… someday… when he is ready – we want to see him again.” Kili urged.

“I can do that.” Fili said. And he fumbled around for a second piece of parchment.


End file.
